


Sense of Home

by ftmleon



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Mentions of homophobia, i have no self control when i join a new fandom, im really gay and really in love with Dorian ok, mentions of abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-15 01:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18064157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ftmleon/pseuds/ftmleon
Summary: Delmar finds his past being spilled open sooner than he hoped due to the natural curiosity of his partner, Dorian- Who finds himself digging through the private collection of books in Delmar's quarters.





	Sense of Home

Dorian scanned over the books in Delmar’s private collection, his hands running over the weakened spines as he mumbled the names to himself. He stopped, his eyes landing on documentation of House Trevelyan, and the generations of the family. The family holding that name was never too far from his own, and swears he’s heard the name murmured during his father’s gatherings.

His curiosity got the better of him, pulling the book from the collection and sitting at Delmar’s desk, opening the book and studying the words. Most of the reading was dry, but his curiosity held a strong grip as he flipped through the generations.

_Warren Trevelyan, born the third of her family. Though too young to claim to be an heir of the throne, she persisted as hardworking; leading her towards a life following the Chantry as a well equipped Templar. She is known as quite an oddity to her family, although being one of the younger family members, she surpassed others in strength as well as height. Acquiring the height that matches well with her father. Though she allows a kind side to show during gatherings of townsfolk._

_Delmar Trevelyan, born fourth of his family. Far too young to be considered for heir of the throne. Young Delmar fought all odds against him, a young man who was not believed to even live to the age he is currently. As the smallest figure of the family, he seeks to become a Cleric as he was not one made best for fighting. Delmar is seem as the quiet one, taking more after his Mother and her feminine stature._

Dorian closed the book and rested it on his lap, his heart sinking into his chest. He stared down at the cover, shaking his head as he sighed, he wondered why Delmar would keep a secret such as this all to himself; though Delmar could be a man of mystery at times, despite his extroverted nature.

Dorian’s memory severed him better than he thought it would, recalling the days he would hear murmurs behind closed doors, sat with other children of respected families. He would stay quiet, buried in a book or simply sitting in his own silence. Had he met Warren and Delmar during these days? He wished his memory could focus more on those moments, but on a day as such with so much stress, a small glimpse of the past was all he could conjure.

“They actually leave a lot out of those books.” Delmar’s posh accent cut through the otherwise silent quarters he had occupied. Dorian shot his head up, nearly jumping from the chair as his heart raced. Curse Delmar for always being so light on his feet, despite the leather he wore that would otherwise signal a presence. Delmar faked his smile, his brow slightly furrowed as he looked at the book on his partners lap.

“I’m sure you could tell much better, more entertaining stories. The book is quite the bore.” Dorian teased, standing from the desk and placing the book back in its place. Delmar huffed sighing softly. Dorian kept his head low, his back turned towards Delmar as he studied the books once again, most of the time he hated the confrontation that could arise between them, though it was rare- today felt worse than all times before.

“If you consider torture more entertaining, than I suppose I could tell a riveting story.” Delmar placed his hand on the small of Dorian’s back, pulling the book from the shelf again. Dorian felt a paralyzing cold rush through his body as the words expelled from Delmar’s mouth. Delmar only hummed a melody he’s known for most of his life, looking over the carefully bound leather book with a dull ache in his chest.

“I know you must think less of me, for this.” Delmar spoke quietly as he waved the book in his hand.

“No, not at all. More if possible.”

“Using my own words, hmm?” Delmar cracked a small laugh, walking towards his bed as he pushed hair behind his ear, keeping it just out of his face. Dorian smiled, watching as he walked away, before being gestured towards the bed.

“I wasn’t lying the night I said we suffered similar pasts. I’ve always prefered to keep my past a secret.” Delmar lowered his head, flipping through the pages of the book, his hands trailing over the words of his families generations. The names pulled at his stomach as memories of home flooded his mind. Dorian rested his hand on his partner’s leg, squeezing it softly.

“The book seems a bit outdated to me, I see no such small figure in sight.” Dorian looked over the words with him.

“You can thank Warren for that.”

“Oh believe me, I shall.” Dorian pressed a small kiss against Delmar’s shoulder, reading over the words with him.

Delmar sighed as his fingers slipped between the thin pages, skimming over the words of a past he already knew, though he struggled to process the information at his fingertips; his mind racing too fast to keep up with. Dorian found himself nestled closer to his lover, his arm wrapped around his shoulders as he allowed Delmar the quiet moment, his hand idly playing at the long strands of his hair.

“I know I lied, I lied a lot about myself.” Delmar closed the book and rested it beside him, rubbing his forehead as he shut his eyes tightly. Dorian hummed, gripping his shoulder gently.

“my curiosity did get the better of me, I will admit that.” Dorian spoke softly, looking over Delmar’s side profile. “If you’re willing to delve deeper, my ears are open to you, my love.” Dorian kept his voice calm, soft- in hopes of keeping Delmar reasonably calm.

“My Father... Was never a kind mind, to his children at least. A loud man, one who spoke with an ill tongue. His words hurt more than lashes across the face.” Delmar felt the air hitch in his throat, his voice wavering from it’s usual stillness. Dorian furrowed his brow, head tilted slightly as he stared at Delmar, listening carefully to his words.

“I was never a man to my parents and, at times, my Mother tempted to beat the man into me.” Delmar gave a weak laugh. He could admit that after years of dealing with these memories alone, it turned more to a joke than a serious manner; something he brushed aside as he continued his day-to-day. Dorian felt his heart fall into his stomach as Delmar’s past resonated deeply with him.

“This scar,” Delmar started, turning to face Dorian as he ran his hand over the scar that dragged over his eye. “I got this one after I tried to run away, my Mother was not very happy. Nearly lost my sight that night” Dorian removed his hand from Delmar’s leg, resting it on his cheek and carefully tracing over the scar with his thumb. Delmar found himself flinching for a moment before soothing into Dorian’s caring touch. The scar was deep, but faded after so many years; yet left Delmar a painful reminder of his home.

Dorian hummed, moving his arm from Delmar’s shoulders to rest against his waist, his thumb slowly running across his cheek.

“I tended to struggle with how I felt as well. Attraction was always odd for me. At times, I was perfectly fine with the idea of marriage to a wonderful woman,” Delmar said, recalling his days as a young teen, back to when he neared adulthood, to when he was introduced to a beautiful girl he was supposed to call his eventual wife.

“But I could never lose the curiosity I had for men, the fondness I acquired from the idea of being in a moment much like this.” Delmar felt himself smiled lightly, his hand reaching to rest on Dorian’s forearm with a soft squeeze. Dorian blushed, resting his forehead against Delmar’s. Delmar shut his eyes, tears attempting to force their way out, he fought against them, but lost the battle quickly as tears spilled down his cheeks.

“I’m glad I decided to stay alive. Despite the endeavors I’ve faced, I have you.” Delmar brushed his nose against Dorian’s. Dorian carefully wiped away the tears that rolled down his cheeks. Dorian hated seeing the way Delmar hide his emotions, attempting to act more dull than he was.

Delmar took a shaky breath as he pulled away from him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before grabbing the book, walking towards the bookshelf with a wave of anguish wash over him. He pressed the book back in between others that detailed the history of Thedas, and quietly declared that there it shall remain for the foreseeable future.

Dorian watched him, the way he moved with near no weight to his step, as though he glided on ice his entire life; a man forced to walk a delicate line in order to see the sun of the next morning. Dorian felt the way he suddenly became to vigilant to the very way Delmar carried himself. He was cautious, all while expressing himself loud, with grand gestures and playful smirks; Delmar was a man much like himself, hiding behind his flirtatious nature and a more eccentric way of life.

“Delmar, can I ask you a question?” Dorian shifted his weight on the bed, one leg pulled up to offer his chin leverage. Delmar hummed, running over the other books, hoping to find one that could draw Dorian to a new curiosity.

“After we put a stop do these troubling matters, assuming we survive. What will happen to us?” Dorian hated the pressure of this question, the force of his hand on something so uncertain to him. But for weeks its troubled his mind; even if Delmar’s response was negative, he’d be thankful for the weight off his chest.

Delmar smiled, lightly biting on his lower lip as his fingertips tapped against the bookcase. “Considering things go as according to plan, I hoped to ask for your hand. To have you at my side, hopefully until the end of my life.” Delmar said, turning and facing Dorian with his arms crossed across his chest.

Dorian scoffed, a blush heavy on his cheeks as he turned his gaze away from him. He never wanted to believe these words, because how could this man be so genuine in the way he responded, or was his playful tongue only teasing him?

“Do you mean that, Delmar Ambrose?” Dorian asked, his eyes moving along the pattern of the quilt on Delmar’s bed, failing to build up any courage to face his gaze.

“Dorian Pavus, I’m unsure if I could be more sincere.” Delmar felt his smile grow as he looked over Dorian’s now shying posture. Though he was still finding himself reliving tragedies of his past in his head, seeing the man he loved only feet away from him ushered in a calmness he never truly knew existed. A moment so simple yet could steal him away from the chaos that surrounded him. Delmar felt himself able to catch a breath when he spent a moment with Dorian, as though the world stilled around their movements.

Delmar approached Dorian, closing the distance between them. His hand resting just underneath his chin, tilting his head up towards his gaze. Dorian’s cheeks burned a darker red, his eyes scanning over Delmar’s scarred yet still soft face. He could never deny the simple beauty of Delmar, the way he felt attracted faster than times before Delmar. The man had become a harbor for Dorian, someone he could crash into when waves steered him off course, someone he could feel safe in the embrace of, an embrace that was truly meant for only him.

“We have been hurt, Dorian. But we are strong, strong apart and together… Personally, I prefer to be together.”

“As do I.” Dorian felt breathless as he pulled Delmar close falling back onto the bed as he pressed a slow and passionate kiss against his lips. Delmar laughed softly, finding himself hovering above Dorian as he shared the same passion.

Their laughs and playful words filled the air as they spent a private moment together, sharing the comfort the other brought. Maker only knows what the future holds for them. All they could do was hope; hope for more days spent together the way they were now; somewhere they could heal together, if only for a moment.

**Author's Note:**

> I want to give a quick thanks to a friend from Tumblr for being my first beta reader, I appreciate it deeply. I hope you enjoyed the story!


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